Ten Open Graves: A Collection of Supernatural Horror

by David Wood

  “Hey, Margaret,” he said turning to the teacher. “I’ve done it.”

  The teacher was still sitting cross-legged beside him, but she didn’t answer. He touched her on the arm, and her body started to fall away from him, just before she sat up straight with a start.

  “You were asleep,” Tony said incredulously.

  “No I wasn’t. But it was close.”

  He held out the other necklace.

  “I made these. They’re a bit tight, but I think it’ll fit you.”

  He stood and went round behind the teacher. He looped the bulbs over her head and tied the thin twine in as strong a knot as he could.

  “How long was I….dozing?”

  “I don’t know. About five minutes? It’s getting dark.”

  The teacher looked up at the circle of dim light above them.

  “Just a cloud,” she said. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Tony wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t have a chance to reply. Margaret stood, groaning, hefted the bag so that it lay across her back and stepped on to the ladder.

  “How far down do we go?” she asked.

  “Right to the bottom,” Tony said. “And we’ll need the light.”

  “I don’t think I’ve got the energy left to take this bag off,” she said. “Can you reach it from there?”

  Tony unzipped the bag and took out the lamp. He zipped the bag up and tapped the teacher on the shoulder.

  “Okay. I’ve got it.”

  At first he didn’t know how he would carry it...it was too bulky to fit in his pocket, and he needed both hands for the ladder. But when he turned the lamp over he saw that it had some sort of buckle on the back, and with a bit of wriggling he could fix it onto his belt.

  Margaret had already gone on down the ladder.

  “Hey, Hurry up,” he heard her say in a loud whisper. “It’s dark down here.”

  He stepped onto the ladder and tried to look down between his arms, but there was only darkness. He took one hand off the ladder and switched on the light, but it was pointing straight out from his waist and only lit the steps of the ladder.

  It helped Margaret though.

  “That’s better. At least now I know where you are.”

  Her voice sounded further away now, and Tony tried to move faster...he had no desire to be separated from her, not here in the dark.

  He kept going down, and the silence got deeper around him. There was only the muffled rustle from beneath him as Margaret descended.

  He tried to concentrate on putting one foot down at a time, but his arms had started to tremble and his legs felt like jelly. He tried to think about something else, something good and bright that he could look forward to when this was over, but he couldn’t think of anything at all.

  It was only when the lamp lit up the floor of the next level down that he realized that he could no longer hear the noises of Margaret descending.

  “Margaret?” He called, little more than a whisper, afraid to raise his voice, too terrified even to move.

  Down below him, where it was pitch dark, there was a sharp intake of breath and a dull thud, then only the quiet again.

  Jim Kerr stood beside the iron door and listened.

  Just a second ago he had heard something, like the shuffle of feet on stone, but it hadn’t been from the bunker...it had come from the cellars above him.

  He pushed the door shut, trying to stop it creaking. It closed into place with a small click, and he couldn’t open it from the outside. He was smart enough to know that the same didn’t apply to the inside.

  Now that he was out of the corridor, away from the bunker, he felt slightly safer. But he still needed to find the ladder, and he still needed to get out before nightfall.

  He stood with his back to the door and tried to force his eyes to pierce the darkness. There was still no sign of the ladder.

  He had steeled himself to walk across the room when he heard another sound. It was above and to his left, and to Jim it sounded like the creak as pressure was applied to the steps of the ladder. He moved towards the noise, taking care not to make any sound that might alert the newcomer to his presence.

  The sounds were getting louder, and when Jim looked up he realized that he could see the dim figure of someone framed in the light that was coming in from the entrance in the roof.

  The figure was coming down the ladder, quietly, almost stealthily, as if taking care not to make any undue noise. All he could hear was the soft scrape of shoes on metal.

  Jim waited until it was three feet from the floor then moved forward. He grabbed at its left leg, pulling the body away from the ladder and twisting the leg at the ankle so that his victim had no option but to let go of the ladder and fall to the ground.

  He dropped on the body and had the crossbow over its chest, ready to fire before his other hand met the garlic bulbs at the neck.

  Even then he nearly fired, but he could feel the heat of the body through his hand. It wasn’t a bloodsucker. He moved his hand away from the neck and met long strands of hair. It seemed he had just come close to killing a woman.

  A bright light appeared above him and a voice, a child’s voice, called down.

  “Margaret. Are you all right?”

  He could hear the fear in the voice. Slowly he took the crossbow away from its position over his victim’s heart, taking care to point it away into the darkness. He looked up and saw another figure above him.

  “She’s all right,” he said. “Probably just winded. Why don’t you bring that light down here?”

  “Margaret?” the voice said again, and Jim realized that the boy was close to tears. He hoped the boy didn’t have a weapon...he was likely to use it as not if the tension in his voice was any guide. He stepped backward, further into the shadows, showing less of a target.

  “I’m all right,” a voice said at his feet. “I think we’ve found your vampire killer.”

  Jim felt a shock, as if he had actually been hit. Someone knew about him...at least he hoped it was him. He didn’t need any amateur competition.

  He helped the woman to her feet and there they waited as the boy climbed down to them. The boy reached the bottom and immediately went to stand beside the woman.

  Jim couldn’t really see them...they were just two dim outlines behind the lamp in the boy’s hand, but he knew when he was being scrutinized.

  “I saw you,” the boy said. “I saw you kill the old man in the churchyard.”

  Jim hadn’t seen anyone else in the graveyard; but then again, he’d been busy at the time. He realized how he must seem to them...a figure in black, complete with long coat and crossbow, unshaven and wide eyed. To them he must look like the perfect facsimile of a psychopath.

  “If you were in the graveyard, then you saw the other thing...the bloodsucker,” he said.

  The boy didn’t speak, but he thought he saw the small head nod. He would have to be careful here. He didn’t want to be thrown back into prison. Not yet, not until the job was finished.

  “The bloodsucker got the old man, and if I hadn’t pinned him, then he would have come back...one of them.”

  “The same way you nearly pinned me?” the woman said. “What stopped you?”

  “I nearly didn’t stop. You’re just lucky. That’s all. Down here I’m inclined to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “And what makes you the judge, jury and executioner?”

  He ignored that. It was a question he had asked himself many times and he’d never got a satisfactory answer.

  “Listen. You obviously know what you’re dealing with...you wouldn’t have bothered with the garlic otherwise. So why don’t we stop pissing about and get out of here.”

  “We’re not leaving,” the woman said. “We’re here to kill it.”

  Jim would have laughed if he hadn’t heard the determination in the voice. Something had happened to these two...something that had given them a bit of what was inside him.

  “Ther
e’s more than one of them,” he said softly. “I counted at least six in the room through there, and I haven’t found out where the big guy is yet. Besides...it must be close to nightfall. You don’t want to mess with them after dark, not if you’re not ready.”

  “We’re ready,” the boy said. “We’re got the hammer and the stakes. And they won’t touch us while we’re wearing the garlic.”

  This time Jim did laugh. The boy sounded so confident, so sure of himself. But Jim was on close terms with fear and tension, and he’d heard it in the boy’s voice.

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” he said. “I’m leaving, whether you come with me or not.”

  “You wouldn’t leave us to face it alone,” the woman said, and there was a pleading in her voice. Both she and the boy were afraid, but they were obviously determined. They were also amateurs, and that meant they stood little chance against the recently changed bloodsuckers.

  They wouldn’t last ten seconds against the big guy.

  “Just watch me,” he replied, but he didn’t make a move for the ladder.

  All of his experience was telling him that it was time to leave, and he had a tingling at the nape of his neck, a premonition of trouble ahead.

  But he couldn’t leave them here. Not a woman and child.

  Especially not a woman and a child.

  The woman seemed to sense the hesitation in him.

  “You know about these things. You can help us,” she said. “You’ve killed them before...why are you so unwilling to do it now?”

  But Jim didn’t have to make a decision...it was made for him.

  A loud bang shook the room. The lamp jerked in the boy’s hand, pointing towards the sound.

  Jim swung round, following the light, just in time to see three figures emerge at a run from the doorway.

  Brian’s eyes opened slowly as if gummed together by sleep. He reached out to his side, half expecting to find a pillow, and his alarm clock beyond that, but met only the old cracked porcelain of the bath.

  He tried to sit up but his limbs seemed to have seized up. Seemingly being a vampire didn’t exclude getting a stiff neck. It took a bit of effort to get his arms onto the rim of the bath, and a larger one to push himself upright.

  Donald Allan was already awake and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring into space, focused on a point above Brian’s head.

  “He’s awake already,” the vampire said.

  Brian didn’t ask how he knew. He supposed it had something to do with the way he himself knew that it was after sunset, even though he was in a closed room with no windows.

  “Does it feel like this all the time?” he asked.

  The vampire smiled, and for the first time Brian noticed the fangs which just touched his lower lip.

  “Only if you insist on sleeping in the bath.”

  The vampire stood in one fluid, cat-like movement. Brian didn’t even notice him bending his legs...it was more like he levitated upwards then let his legs fall beneath him.

  “There’s not much time. I’m going back to the house. Are you coming with me?”

  “You mean I have a choice?” Brian asked.

  “You always have a choice,” the vampire said, and again Brian felt that it was more of a quote than a statement. He felt like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world in the hope that the last twenty-four hours would just go away and be replaced by something normal.

  He was being asked to return to the place where the nightmare started. To go back and face the thing that had made him this way. On the other hand, he knew nothing about what he had become, and the vampire in front of him seemed to be the only way to learn. Besides, he felt fit and healthy...ready for action.

  “Do I have time to change?” he asked. His clothes had rumpled and creased. The black velvet jacket would never be the same again.

  Donald Allan looked him up and down, and gave him the smile again.

  “I think you had better,” he said. “I’ve got my reputation to think of. Wear something black...it’s what you might call traditional.”

  Brian opened the bathroom door, half expecting his skin to start smoking again. He could see all the bare, worn patches on the carpet in the hall and the nicotine stains on the wallpaper flowed in a dim, sickly green. While he was on the way to his bedroom he realized that he had just gone through the hours of daylight without a cigarette. That hadn’t happened for years...not even when he’d been laid up with flu. Even stranger, he had no desire for nicotine, and his hands were steady.

  One hell of a way to kick the habit, he thought wryly.

  He tried not to dress in black, but somehow every other color seemed to jar. He finally stumped for a pair of old black denims, a black T-shirt and black Cuban heeled cowboy boots, that he hadn’t worn since he was a student. Their heels were worn down by more than half an inch, but they were comfortable and, absurdly, made him feel nearly ten years younger. He had to put a belt on the trousers...he seemed to have lost more than two inches from his waist, and as he was tightening the belt he noticed that the T-shirt was tight around the chest. Not uncomfortably so, but noticeable considering that he’d purposefully bought it baggy.

  When he looked in the mirror he realized that what he needed, what would really set the whole thing off, was a black leather jacket. Luckily he didn’t own one, otherwise the two of them together would more than likely be taken for a pair of gays cruising...not a good idea in this town.

  He laughed. He had a feeling that he was more than a match for any number of people in the neighborhood, no matter how violent they became. He felt strong, calm and ready for anything.

  By rights he should be a gibbering wreck, fit only to be locked in a padded room somewhere quiet.

  He turned in a circle in front of the mirror, admiring his new body, and found the vampire staring at him.

  “You’ll do,” Donald Allan said. “Time to go.”

  He looked straight into Brian’s eyes. “This is your chance to back down,” he said. “Things are going to get a bit strange from now on.”

  “You mean even more strange than it has been already?” Brian asked. His smile stopped on its way to his lips when he saw the grave expression on the vampire’s face.

  “I’d better come with you. After all, who would I turn to for fashion tips?” Brian asked.

  This time he was answered by a laugh.

  “I think you’ll be all right,” the vampire said. “You’ve got a sense of humor – which is more or less essential, if you’re to stay sane. The serious ones always give in to despair a lot quicker.”

  Brian fell in behind him as they headed out of the house and down to the car.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “You mean you weren’t listening?” Donald Allan replied. “We’ve got to put him back to sleep...before he turns the whole town...if he hasn’t managed it already.” He waved his arm at the rows of houses.

  “Notice anything strange?” he said.

  Brian looked along the street. The trees, shrubs and grass still sang at him, and they still glowed, but he didn’t think that was what the vampire meant. Then he got it.

  Although the sun had only been down for half an hour the streets were empty. No one was coming home from work, no one was going out for the evening, in fact, there were no lights in any of the houses.

  “You mean they’re all like me?” Brian said.

  Donald Allan signed and rolled his eyes theatrically.

  “You certainly weren’t listening. You were different. He had you marked down as a disciple. The others are only followers...little intelligence and no control over the hunger. Look.”

  He couldn’t see what the vampire was pointing at, but there was a strange tingling just behind his eyes. Then he saw it, at the far end of the street.

  It slunk, crouched over, reminding Brian of a hyena stalking a wildebeest. Its head was close to the ground, and even at that distance Brian could hear strange snuffling
noises. It looked more like an animal than a man, but he recognized old Mr. Gallacher from number 56.

  “He’s on the hunt,” Donald Allan said. “He won’t come near us. He might not be so smart, but he knows instinctively that we are the stronger. But if you see a pack of them, run.”

  “Doesn’t your magic work against them?” Brian asked, remembering the fireworks from the night before.

  “My ‘magic’, as you call it, works against almost anything. But using it drains you...the power has to come from somewhere you know...and I’m going to have to be at full strength to cope with Shoa. Now are we going to stand here admiring the view all night?”

  Brian walked round to the side of the car door, waiting for the vampire to unlock it.

  “No. Not that way,” Donald Allan said, and his smile was back full force. “Let me show you the only way to travel.”

  Jim’s crossbow bolt took the leading vampire in the neck and passed straight through...he’d rushed the shot and the light was bad. It didn’t slow it down any, and he didn’t have time to reload. Two of them were on him before he could even reach for the holster.

  He dropped the crossbow at his feet to free up his hands and was just in time to catch the first one...a boy in his late teens, by the forearm. In the same movement he turned and twisted, feeling the bloodsucker turn with him, using its weight to push it off balance and into the second that was already reaching for him.

  There was a scream behind him, whether from the boy or the woman he wasn’t sure, and the light from the lamp suddenly beamed erratically around the room. He didn’t have time to turn...the second vampire...a heavy set woman in her fifties...all twin set and pearls...moved towards him at a speed more befitting a rugby player.

  He turned, side on to his attacker, and shot out his hand, the heel of the palm catching her just on the point of the nose and pushing upwards in one sharp movement. He felt the cartilage snap and saw the bloodsucker’s eyes flare as it fell back away from him.